


A Fight Against Himself

by Monsters_and_Matsu



Category: Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, freeman's mind
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Bad Ending, Blood and Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Forced Relationship, Hand Jobs, Helpless, Horror, Hurt, Loss of Control, M/M, Mental Anguish, Monologue, Non-Consensual, Pessimistic, Rage, Second Chances, Self-Destruction, Self-Worth Issues, Self-cest, Slurs, Suffering, Video Game Mechanics, hopeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsters_and_Matsu/pseuds/Monsters_and_Matsu
Summary: This is a graphic, desperation fic with a little pornographic language. All commentary is the character's and maybe questionable. Read the tags before continuing. Seriously don't ignore the other tags then expect something different.This is the end and that was the last straw. Freemind isn’t willing to die with dignity. Feetman is the only one left to take his emotions out on. They both let go and stop fighting the inevitable.**UPDATE** Chapter 2: Alternate Happy Ending. Feetman x Freemind Fluff. (Free of non-con, descriptive violence and readable without chapter 1)
Relationships: Gordon Feetman/Gordon Freemind
Comments: 3
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

In the dark, twisted pits of Black Mesa lived the Gordon Freemans. All trapped in a time loop. An endless maze of monsters, radioactivity and suffering. The more they struggled the faster their sanity drained. They fought with the desperation of a thousand dying animals, the pain writhing through them being the only thing that made them keep fighting. Nothing wants to die. Even if it would mean finally finding peace.

There was no hope here. There was no escape unless a more powerful force allowed it. They were rats in cages. They were all victims of circumstance.

Two Freemans happened to cross paths amidst their living hell.

Freemind, the man who lived on the edge. Black mesa wasn’t the first time he had been scared for his life or woke up in a dumpster. Not his first time doing drugs to calm his nerves or shoot someone in self defensive. Freemind didn’t fuck with you if you didn’t fuck with him. He knew everyone and everything was on equal grounds to attack him or be fucked over by life too. He wasn’t here to get slowed down by the helpless bystanders.

Feetman, on the other hand, loved people. He was a social butterfly who thrived off the attention and support of others. He loved fitting in, he loved having friends and people liking him for himself. It was a wonder how he even got his degree. He wasn’t exactly known for paying attention. If he could, he would let his team carry him through everything. Of course the only expectation being when others went against what he believed was right. Then he spoke up with the stubbornness of a mule. It didn’t matter what you said if he knew you were against popular opinion. 

The two of them were sitting on the ground leaning against a wall. They were trapped somewhere in the dim and blooded halls of Black Mesa. Fate had not been kind to them. Their HEV suits were destroyed, only bits and pieces were still clinging onto them. The repeated beatings had proved to be too much for their suits to handle. No more protection. They had been walking for so long, their suits and bodies had broken down. It hadn’t been days.. Or weeks.. Time didn’t matter here. They had lost track of it ages ago. All they knew was that their bodies were failing them.

Feetman fought to keep his eyes open, the voices of his friends faintly rang in his head. Asking him to get up so they could keep going, talking about wanting soda and saying hello over and over. The science team... They seemed to defy logic. They always followed him as if they couldn’t continue without him. They were bound to him. But their presence was fading… Did they die a long time ago? Or had they not been real at all...? He missed them either way. If he could he would follow them but it hurt too much to stand. He looked at the first-aid machine on the wall next to them, he had gotten some blood restored from it but that only did so much.

Freemind was in just as bad shape, but he wasn’t afraid to use all the tools given to him. He had a med-kit and had been collecting drugs to help him through this. He had two needles left and slowly looked over at his doppleganger.

“...Want one?”

Feetman didn’t look over, his head seemed to be somewhere else... “No.” He was convinced that if he was going to get out of here he couldn’t get addicted to drugs he didn’t have a steady supply of. It would ruin any chance of his body recovering. Maybe if he just rested he had a chance...

It made Freemind sick seeing him lay beside him, willingly suffering. “Whatever guy.” He jammed the needle into his arm. Morphine blocking the ability to feel pain and sending a short euphoria through him. He was able to sit in peace for a while. Then it wore off. Aching pains started to rise up in him again. He just wanted this to stop... Or at least his death come faster.

Feetman wore a grimace on his face. He couldn’t believe the pain he was in and this fuck was getting high as a kite. “Asshole...”

Freemind glanced over, “What.”

“Nothing.” 

...

They were silent for a while longer until Feetman lost his patience. “I’m fucking in so much pain I can’t take it. And you’re just- shoving it in my face.” He said with extreme bitterness.

“I offered you pain killers, kind of retarded you don't wanna take them.”

Feetman’s frown grew deeper, “Stop saying that fucking word, I’m sick of it. Sick of you.”

Freemind glared a hole into the other Freeman’s head. That fucking comment. Was that really what he was going to give him shit about? The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

He shouldn’t care what this clone rip-off said about him, but he did. This was how it was going to end, not even a copy of himself understood where he was coming from. Did Feetman really think this was the time to slap him on the wrist for being selfish??

His fists started to shake, he was fucking boiling. Everyone... Everyone was always against him. Up until his dying day...!

He couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He tackled the other Freeman catching him off guard and wringing his throat. Feetman gasped and tried to fight him desperately clawing at the hands around his neck. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGH!!!!” He squeezed so hard Feetman started seeing stars. “How could you fucking care about this shit when we’re on our fucking deathbeds!?”

He couldn’t stand it, they were basically the last people on earth and even now this asshole was looking down on him. Going out of his way to disagree with him over something that would ease his suffering and word choice that didn’t fucking matter to them. Going out of his way to hurt him further as if their fragile mental states weren’t hanging by a string. And his snapped.

Freemind’s voice boomed through the corridor, “FUCK YOU! FUCK your self-righteous preaching, you feeble insufferable cunt! A privileged man with everybody else’s sensitivities at the forefront of your mind because you were groomed to believe our problems didn’t matter! You still feel obligated to correct me on the brink of death and society collapsing- What about MY FEELINGS GORDON!? ARE MY FEELINGS NOT VALID??? BECAUSE I DON’T TELL EVERYONE EVERY HORRIBLE THING THAT HAPPENED TO ME FOR JUSTIFICATION?? BECAUSE I WASN’T BORN WITH AN OBVIOUS AFFLICTION?? YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT!!!”

He slammed Feetman down on the ground so hard that the already strained and cracked HEV suit burst into more pieces and the remaining metal fell off him. He coughed and gasped as he let go of his neck when he threw him. Feetman tried to inch away but he couldn’t see straight let alone deal with the pain coursing through his limbs.

Freemind stood up, wired and struggling to stand even on the painkiller. “I am so SICK of trying to give every retarded motherfucker the benifit of the doubt just so they get a chance to hurt me. I stopped blindly handing out compassion when I never had it returned once in my goddamn. Life. Where’s my award?? Where’s my support group?? I deserve a fucking gold plated statue for all the shit life put me through! I never got anything in return for not shooting the people that hurt me on site!”

Feetman’s speech was shallow and sore, “You’re fucked in the head and will rot in Hell-”

Freemind stumbled closer before his legs gave out and he dropped his knee on Feetman’s chest to immobilize him.

“I will always be hated and called a bad person because I can’t GIVE anymore. There will always be someone who’s victim story is ‘better’ than mine. More valid than mine. So I’M THE ONE that should bite my tongue and suffer. I couldn’t POSSIBLY feel as much pain as them. I’m the monster for trying to protect myself and being defensive! I’M THE ASSHOLE! God FUCKING forbid someone tries to give the ASSHOLE COMPASSION!”

Freemind took out his handgun from his holster and pressed it hard underneath Feetman’s neck, how badly he wanted to kill him. Feetman shut his eyes bracing for impact. But Freemind pulled the trigger over and over on an empty clip. He ran out of bullets a long time ago, but he wanted it to fire just once. He didn’t have the strength to end Feetman with his bare hands.

“No one ever thinks about why bad people act the way they do, that you would all do the same thing if you were pushed far enough. I have reasons too. I have trauma and hurt and fear, but everyone needs a person to blame. An easy out. And they pick me every single time. Because why would anyone feel guilty about hurting the bad guy?” Freemind’s voice was hollow. He slammed the end of his gun across Feetman’s face making him grunt and smear red down his teeth.

“It hurts being this fucking smart.” Freemind leaned over and hissed. “Being able to see straight through everyone’s good intent and down to their hypocrisy. No one would act any fucking different if they were put in my place. They'd eventually come to accept that the world turned their back on them and it’s not worth feeling guilty the rest of your life for just being alive. No one is willing to help the people they labeled as wrong."

Freemind was shaking, "Every single person deep down is selfish, because there’s no point in living if you're unhappy. You’re the only one that actually feels your hurt, so you have to care about yourself when no one else will. You can’t fucking give what you don’t have. You can’t care about other people when no one cares about you.”

He swiped his gun across Feetman’s face again, full blown rage returning. “I’M THE JERK because my pain isn't good enough! I’M THE ASSHOLE cause others think they have it worse than me! I ALWAYS held back because I cared too much about other people feeling the same pain I did and what good did that do me!?” He raised his arm, “ANSWER ME FREEMAAAAAAAN!!!” He hit him again, gun flying out of his grip and disappearing into a corner somewhere.

His breaths were ragged, the two of them struggling for air just as much as the other. The beaten Gordon stared off emptily to the side, his glasses gone, shards probably lodged in his skin, his mouth coated with the iron taste of his own blood. His vision spinning violently and agony dominating his body. He could only lay there.

Freemind stared at him for a long time.

“...If I’m going to die here, I'm going out on my own terms. Fuck holding back. Fuck everything.” Freemind leaned to grab and pull over the half empty med-kit. He felt tormented. He wanted this to end. He stuck the other full syringe into his own vein without thinking about it. He was committed now.

Once the drugs kicked in he felt no pain and no worry. His inhibitions disappeared. A lethal dose wandering around his body. He slid off of Feetman and sat on his knees. 

“Hahaha... Fuck that’s hitting different.” His logical thoughts drifted away. The only thing that would make this better was a smoke and sex.

“Man, I fucking want to-...” His glazed eyes danced slowly over the other Freeman, then a snort escaped him having a thought.

Feetman couldn’t even comprehend what the other gordon was saying. He just wanted to be left alone, but to no such luck. He barely held himself up as Freemind grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him to sit in his lap face to face.

“Go fuck yourself, as they say.” Freemind slurred.

Feetman only realized something was happening when Freemind’s hand started touching him too low for comfort. In a moment of panic he threw his arms up and scraped his legs against the floor to push away. His muscles felt like they were disintegrating, the radiation poisoning was deeply rooted inside them.

“Get away from me...” Feetman spat hanging on to his last bit of anger.

Freemind’s only upper hand was that he didn’t feel the pain trying to stop him from exerting his torn muscles, it didn’t stop him when Feetman elbowed him in the nose with all the might he could muster. An unsettling crack was heard. Freemind could barely feel the new blood running down his face. He grabbed Feetman’s wrists and licked his own lip.

“Freeman it’s over for us, stop fighting.” Freemind cooed to him.

With one hand digging into Feetman’s wrists and the other free, all that was left to do was whip out those fucking dicks and get to jerking. A weird ping of excitement crawled through Freemind. It wasn’t gay to do shit with your clone. He wasn’t fucking gay. And he was too high to care. Ha, wouldn’t you know it, they were hung with identical packages.

Feetman struggled but eventually could only look away. He couldn’t stop this. He was so tired. And as much as he didn’t want this, Freemind was right. He physically couldn’t fight for himself anymore. None of this even mattered. He was nothing more than a conscious that happened to inhabit this flesh. Meat with chemicals and electrical signals coursing through it to send back to a brain that hallucinates a version of time passing. Nothing more than pain and ideas he’s been trained to believe would give him a happy life. Good people suffered. Bad people suffered. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered. Why care about what happened to this body. He wasn’t going to want it soon and it wouldn’t want him.

Feetman slumped onto Freemind’s shoulder as the slightest bit of pleasure was forced upon him. The rhythmic motion of the two of them squeezed together by one blood-slicked hand. Masturbating was a natural pain blocker and Feetman just closed his eyes and whimpered as some of the edge was taken off of him. Obviously it wasn’t great, but he welcomed any relief as he gave up. He didn’t have the energy to think anymore. He didn’t have the will to be bothered by how much he was being wronged. It didn’t matter when they were going to die here suffering no matter what.

At a point he had to stop being optimistic that things might have worked out, that some greater force would have shown him mercy if he just held out longer. Stop believing that he deserved mercy for being a good person and that meant he was going to get it. No matter which version of himself Freeman was, they were all meeting the same faith in this Hell. 

At least Feetman knew he lived without guilt, that he was accepted as a person and by society as a whole. He knew taking other’s lives in self defense or preaching hate onto those who society agreed deserved it was generally validated. He was reassured that blaming other victims of circumstance made him a hero. A killer with justification.

Freemind lived his life repeatedly telling himself that he didn’t go out of his way to hurt others. That he wasn’t perfect and made mistakes and was just trying to live. And that was all true. It just didn’t matter to anyone but him. His bad deeds outweighed any good ones from the eyes on the outside. If he didn’t reassure himself that it wasn’t his fault he was fucked up, no one would.

After all, how could anyone give compassion to a man so hurt by change that he refused to try it again? How disgusting Freemind was that he didn’t try harder. High off his ass and clinging to the last person he would ever see. Acting upon his last desires because nothing was holding him back, not even the disgust for himself in his own mind. Obviously he was just a bad person for giving in to wanting to be selfish, right? What an awful person he was for not wanting to put other people’s feelings above his own anymore when he’d been rejected by the world.

These sarcastic rebuttals plagued Freemind's thoughts most of his life. He truly believed that he had no choice but to have been alone, despite being surrounded by people.

He wouldn’t have to deal with the judgement once this was over. It wasn’t a matter of arguing what was morally right or wrong. It was a lack of perspective that he made mistakes and couldn’t justify learning from them.

Freemind leaned against Feetman in return. His breaths were weirdly paced and littered with groans of effort right next to his clone’s ear. All his energy was focused on pumping his hand around their rods. It was difficult to even keep that simple movement steady. His shaky thumb occasionally passing over their sensitive tips. Earning a short breathy cry from Feetman as he tensed up for a second before his shoulders hung limp again.

Freemind’s eyes started to flutter closed. In this brief moment he felt so good... He hadn’t felt good since coming into work the morning of the incident, let alone sexually satisfied. If he knew his life was going to end up like this, maybe he would have done something different. But it was too late for that now. He was bitter and unwilling to blame himself for the cards dealt to him. Of course some things were bound to be his fault, but he gave up believing it was worth changing himself a long time ago. He gave up believing in other people changing their view of him. He’d always be in a hole, and no amount of kindness would help him get out as people tried to bury him alive.

Negative thoughts didn’t particularly matter amidst his high right now though. Freemind was thinking more about the fact... that he never touched another man before. Ha ha not that this counted or meant he was actually bi this whole time. But for right now... he felt less alone. Just intimately having someone close. Having him experience the same thing he was.

R-... Rubbing their cocks together and hearing Feetman’s masculine moans in his ear. Suddenly that thought brought him very close, very fast.

He picked up the pace giving one last actual effort. Feetman flinched being forced to climax with him. For exactly 5 seconds, he was allowed a blissful feeling. Freemind’s grip faded and his arms fell aside. He dropped his face into Feetman’s shoulder. It was peaceful for a second.

Then the strain on their bodies was like a gut punch. Feetman could only groan as a foul ache ran through his guts. Body hurt, everything hurt. Not wanting to move anymore outweighed any need to remove himself from his alternate self. Remembering there was another person here was the last thing on his mind. He barely was conscious.

Freemind lifted his head with an unwell expression, nose blood dried up but still caking his face. “Ugh... H-huh....” Freemind’s chest tightened and thumped irregularly. His heartbeat slowed to a snail’s pace. He had to push Feetman off him as it started to feel like he was crushing him. Freemind’s head was blank and spinning, he didn’t know where he was or what was happening. He hunched over only able to cough and strain to breath. Eventually, he laid on his side and slowly quieted down.

Feetman laid on his back with an awkward crook of his body and limbs. He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move. The sickness and the fighting had proven too much. Rest... Yeah that was it... He would go to sleep and when he woke up he would be fine... Yeah... He let himself fall asleep.

* * *

A mute Gordon Freeman was jogging down the halls, trapped like all the others. Afraid for his life and watching out for monsters, there would have to be an exit close by right?

He turned down a corridor, but flinched and held his gun up spotting what looked like people.

...Oh. Oh god... There were two bodies but they looked like. Him.

Freeman backed up but couldn’t look away. Like staring at a car accident.

He... He hoped that...

Freeman made himself turn away and run even though the image of his clones were still imprinted in his head. Maybe... They had died peacefully. That’s all he could do. Lie to himself so he could find the strength to keep going.

There had to be an exit somewhere.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Happy Ending. Freeman x Freemind Fluff.
> 
> Some players log on. The Gordon Freemans are spared by a force they had no idea controlled their world. Things are finally looking up and they even become friends along the way.

Two bodies lay on the ground. Armor torn to shreds and work clothes gently wrapping against their room temperature skin. Covered in wounds, blood and alien guts. The scene of two men that had accepted their faith not long ago.

It was quiet and dim in their little hallway, peaceful. No creatures ventured there, only the noise of the office light overhead giving out with a spark and the dripping of some water leaking somewhere.

A dark resting place where they suffered no longer.

...

Suddenly, a bright line of what looked like computer text blinked onto the wall and illuminated them. There was no projector or screens- it seemed to completely defy logic. It read:

[Starting up _Half-Life._ Developer: Valve. Running player inputs...]

The text began to spark and visible static started branching out, touching the environment around it. Everything it zapped came to life; the half broken lights on the ceiling blinked on, the rubble brushed aside and the static danced over the two laying figures.

The bolts became more focused on the Freemans. Lifting them up to standing positions, static passed and coursed through their flesh violently. Their wounds rapidly began healing and the stains across their bodies shrunk, this peculiar force even regenerating their armor completely before the text disappeared.

Immediately after the crawling electricity vanished, the two men erupted into gasps and sputters, sucking up air in a desperate manner as if they never had before. They were overtaken by deep visceral coughs getting used to functioning again.

All previous ailments, damage and drug symptoms left them. Their heads were a hundred percent clear. Besides a sense of overwhelming fear as they woke up.

“Wha- What the fuck-!” Feetman could only curse and split out nonsense words as he tried to regain his bearings.

“Ughhh...” Freemind threw his head back completely sober, “Arrrrgh, wha." He focused on his environment. "Ugh, I’m still here!?!” He grinded his teeth as the first thing he recognized was the walls of Black Mesa. That’s right he was fucking trapped here, bullshit bullshit...!

Feetman blinked over and over, his glasses having been magically repaired and put back on his face too. There was a yelling man in front of him, the walls looked crumbled and broken- next he turned his attention to himself and had a horrifying realization.

“I can’t move, why can’t I move- what the Hell...!”

Despite both standing up, they seemed to have no ability to move anything below their neck. As Feetman derailed into panicked stutters and babbles, Freemind finally took notice of him and tried the same.

“Fucking- I'm stuck! Fucking piece of shit ass, complete horse shit motherfucker...!” An endless stream of infuriated groans raged out of Freemind. The corridor was full of their cries until the bright text blinked onto the wall again. They both snapped their attention to it with fearful gulps and heavy breathing.

“A… are those brackets?” Feetman finally croaked out.

[Player models resetting...]

“Is this some kind of fucking joke!?” Freemind frantically looked around for a projector or other people that could be doing this, but there was nothing.

The text blinked away and their bodies became less tense. They had a moment of relief as it seemed they were able to move again. But they both readied their crowbars in their hands at the same time without knowing why.

Some more text blinked onto the back of their gloves.

“Uh- 'player one'...?” Feetman squinted reading it.

Freemind’s face lit up red with anger as he read his, “I AM NO ONE’S PLAYER 2!!!” He screamed excessively upset at the walls and behind his back spinning around. “FUCK YOU TEXT!”

Feetman got an uneasy feeling thinking about these weird text boxes and spoke up once the other Gordon gave him a chance. “This must be some alien shit, we can’t let it get to our heads. Come on.” He jogged down the hall to the intersection. “It’s not worth staying here while we got this chance.”

“Tsh...” Freemind followed the clone, but he didn’t have a clear reason why. Like something was urging him to move without his direct consent. Any other time he would go off on his own. Plus, he nearly careened face first into a doorway and stopped, as if he was jogging too fast to control where he went. He shook his head confused at his own actions.

“What are you drunk? Stop dicking around.”

“Shut the Fuck.” Freemind got heated embarrassed cheeks. This was bizarre. And he was pretty sure his double thought the same thing.

Waking up all weird, seeing computer text, moving erratically- But they quickly pushed it aside. They were scared and wanted to get the Hell out of here.

The once maze of hallways seemed to become more linear. They lingered around empty rooms and looked carefully around paths they had once been speeding through out of desperation. They found boxes that were intact and new signs of life where there had previously only been wandering monsters.

Freemind’s eyes widened with joy as he walked into a supplies closet. “OHH Yeah, sweet sweet ammunition! About fucking time!” He practically threw himself at the shelves and grabbed two handguns, loading them up and shoving clips of bullets into his H.E.V. suit storage.

Feetman came running in with equal excitement hearing him, dear god he never wanted to be without a gun again...! He rushed in and jammed himself next to the cabinet too, wanting something for himself really badly. To his shock, the bigger gun was left to him.

“Oh- Thanks.” He said to Freemind, completely expecting him to lift every single last weapon he could carry. Let alone the huge automatic in the middle of the shelf.

Freemind froze. Why… didn’t he grab the biggest gun first? Ugh this wasn’t like him, even the way he loaded everything up seemed so robotic. He could only shrug his clone’s comment off. “Yeah whatever, I can shoot more directions at once with double guns.”

He tried to shake his awkwardness off and lead Feetman this time. Big rooms, unexploded barrels, untripped turrets and elevators- it felt like they were actually GETTING somewhere! They became exhilarated with this sense of progress. Their bodies felt good, their morales were up, all their luck seemed to turn around in an instant.

What was even stranger, every time they got caught up doing their own thing, they seemed to meet up again. Sometimes a Gordon taking a break at the door to the next area or continuing to look around until they bumped heads again instead of moving on. Maybe it was the fear of trying to fight everyone on their own again.

Their motives for staying together weren’t clear until they found themselves pinned in another sticky situation.

“WATCH IT--!” Feetman jumped on Freemind covering him from a wall mine and pushing the two of them out of the blast range. In the spur of the moment, Feetman didn’t think twice about helping his unconventional teammate. They had to watch each other's backs if they were to stand a chance-

Freemind shook his head having the double lay on top of him. Their metal suits clunk as Feetman lifted himself just enough to look at his face.

“Are you okay?” Feetman asked.

He froze up a moment having the man hang above him like this. His longer ponytail over his shoulder and practically ticking Freemind’s face. 

“..Why did you do that?” Freemind questioned bewildered, the act of kindness and closeness suddenly unraveling him. He felt his face blush, for what reason was beyond him but he put his hand on Feetman’s shoulder to push him away so he wouldn’t see.

“Oh I uh, I don’t know. You would have gotten blown to bits.” Feetman sat on his knees, almost feeling embarrassed by his clone’s tone of voice.

“Right. Thanks.” Freemind muttered, his head down and tilted to the side as he got up. “Let’s go already.”

* * *

After a successful trek, they came across a new level of computer labs. This was huge for them, they actually seemed to make their way out of the endless halls and into a different wing. But there was a change once they got there.

“Grrr... Are we going in circles again!? How many fucking goddamn computer labs can there be here??” Freemind bashed a monitor off a desk with a kick.

Feetman looked down and raised his brows noticing that text on the back of his glove was gone. Didn’t it say something there before or did they both hallucinate that...? 

“Lets stop and get some rest... maybe we’re just tired.” Feetman smiled warily, he knew what Freemind was thinking. They were both scared that they would become trapped again. “We made it this far, we need to pace ourselves.”

Begrudgingly, Freemind agreed. They settled down in one of the small rooms and locked the door, sighing gently feeling a bit of safety from the dangers outside. They slide down the wall to sit on the floor and rest.

It was quiet for a bit.

“Can I ask you something?” Feetman couldn’t help but be talkative.

Freemind rolled his eyes, “If you must.”

“I’ve uh. Just been thinking.” Feetman glanced at his double with a stoic expression. “How did we even get here... do you remember anything? From right before we woke up today?” Every hallway and monster encounter had started to blend together for a really long time. They couldn’t find anything new besides stocked vending machines and health stations that they could have swore were the same but couldn’t be since they were replenished. Their ammo ran out and their armor became mangled. 

Then he remembered the rapid build-up of unbearable pain from barely won fights and radiation poisoning. His blood loss had left him unable to process anything that happened after they stopped walking. He felt like he had been dying and yet, he had woken up completely fine today.

Freemind looked straight ahead, not responding right away. “No. I was hopped up on drugs more and more, so I don’t really remember much of anything.” But that wasn’t a hundred percent true. He remembered the feeling of losing all hope, it began to crush him and he was insanely blind with rage and fear.

Freemind glanced at Feetman and gulped. He also remembered the need to get close to his clone, wanting more than anything to just be liked and accepted by him when he thought he was going to die. It made an uncomfortable knot twist in his chest recalling it, actually wanting his approval.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter right now.” Feetman continued, “With all this alien stuff going on, there’s so much that can happen that we don’t understand. Let’s just. Focus on making progress.”

“Go to sleep already.” Freemind replied as if uninterested. Feetman sighed and became quiet, but Freemind sat there for a while. Staring up at the ceiling. 

When he looked at Feetman again he was asleep, head bent back leaning on the wall. A peaceful yet not completely relaxed expression on his face. Freemind groaned and dropped his arms down his sides. His gloved hand bumped against Feetman’s between them.

“...” Freemind tried to get comfy enough to rest too. He lifted his fingers and gently held his double’s open hand. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he felt okay enough to fall asleep as long as he knew he was by his side.

* * *

After some hours, Feetman pulled up his tacky eyes open. The air in the room was still and stale. Sleeping in the H.E.V. suit was never comfortable... He couldn’t rest his head without getting a crick in his neck.

He lifted his hands to go rub his face, but his right arm had something on top of it. He turned his head to see his double leaning against him, Freemind’s sleeping head using his shoulder as a pillow and hand holding his arm loosely.

Feetman couldn’t help a small smile. When they first met, Freemind wanted nothing to do with him. He tried everything to lose him even though they were fighting the same monsters side by side. Told him to not get in his way and this was every man for himself.

Truth was Feetman was horrified when he lost track of the science team, he was completely dependent on their protection and guidance. So he followed the clone as closely as he could, just so he wouldn’t have to face hoards of hostiles on his own. It had always seemed like Freemind just tolerated his presence because the odds were looking grim, as long as Feetman could keep up he let him stay.

Nevertheless, Feetman got a cocky sense of joy seeing Freemind like this. Not being completely distant and angry for once. Why Freemind was so intensely bitter about accepting his help, he’ll never know. But they were both under an insane amount of stress so he tried not to let it get to him.

Though, Feetman wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to be a dickhead.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty, dad has errands to run today.” Feetman smirked as he reached over and pinched Freemind’s cheek with his free hand.

“Tsh-” Freemind immediately made a face and tried to shake his head away being grabbed, “Agh what the- don’t fucking touch me!” He pushed himself off him. “What are you gay or something??”

Feetman couldn’t help but start laughing a bit, “You were the one on _me,_ dude.”

“That’s what you want me to think- Sicko.” Freemind scraped himself off the floor. Grr he swore this guy was such a headache for him... making him think he actually liked his company... as if! Freemind kept telling himself this. No way were another person’s acts of kindness and caring affection actually what he wanted all his life. Pf.

Feetman rolled his eyes. Then noticed that the strange text was blinking on the back of his hand again- So they hadn’t imagined it.

[Player 1]

He got up, “Notice this?” Feetman held his hand up to show this clone.

Freemind let out a huff as he cooled down enough to think. He looked at his own hand to see that damned ‘player two’ that he hated.

“Yeah. I’m no expert on alien technology. But if I had to guess, given the understanding we have of the Quantum Theory of Light, we could suggest that this is some kind of disruption in wave-particle duality. Making it act as a light and the matter at the same time, resulting in an hologram effect which is why it seems to be attached to us.” Freemind snorted smuggly, “But you would have to be a fucking idiot to forget the basic quantum mechanics and refraction of light in the first place. Unless everything we know as theoretical physicists is _wrong._ Am I right or am I right?” Freemind crossed his arms and raised his brows at the other Freeman, expecting a clone of himself of all people to be able to keep up with his smarts.

Feetman creased his brows and his jaw slacked open without realizing, “I have never... heard someone talk smack with science before.” He shook his head trying to shake the puzzled look off his face.

“Hmph, atleast you’re not stupid.” Freemind smirked. “You’re a clone of the best person on earth so you have that going for you.”

Feetman really let out a laugh this time, making Freemind blink because he was being a hundred percent serious.

“Hahah! Aaah fuck, let’s- Let’s just get the Hell out of here.” Feetman spit out between giggles. Damn he used to laugh with the science team all the time, even through the worst situations. Maybe they weren’t doomed.

The Gordons loaded up their guns and with heads held high they ventured out into the halls again. They still had that lurking fear in the back of their minds. What if that progress was a one time deal? What if this was their new resting place. They knew what it was like to run out of luck and slowly watch all hope sink down the drain. 

But they had a lot of new things this time around. Not just supplies and the strange light- they had a little more trust in each other. Feetman jumping into danger to save his ass, Freemind showing vulnerability, even both sharing a civil conversation; the doppelgangers had reached a new place of understanding.

To their relief, the adventure continued. More gunfire, more mines, more casualties. This time things seemed to be moving again. New conveniently placed rooms and almost puzzle-like problems to be solved.

Fights, unstable platforms, ropes and hazards- they lent each other a hand more and more through each twist and turn.

Yet, they started to become tired again.

‘One more room’ they’d tell the other, ‘There’s an exit somewhere coming up, I know it.’

Then, they had their big break.

“This is the only fucking way to go- WE’LL BLOW THIS DOOR OPEN IF ITS THE LAST THING WE DO!” Freemind screamed a battle cry as him and his double pushed on a lodged bright red door with all their might.

It suddenly gave and the Gordons fell out onto their faces. Sunlight reflected off their metallic orange suits. Fresh air filled their lungs.

Feetman lifted his head from the ground. “Haha... HAHAHA!!! WE’RE OUTSIDE.” He grabbed his head not believing his eyes and laughing maniacally.

They did it! They found an exit!

They could see the crumbled security walls of the faculty, right outside the border was the road. Who cared if they had to hotwire a car or even walk- this was freedom! Along that road was the next city over!

“Ahahah!! We’re alive!!! We’re fucking outside and ALIVE!! FUCK YEEEEAAAAAH!!!” Gordon Feetman scrambled to his feet and threw his fists in the air in wild punches, jumping up and down for joy. Making the dry desert dirt fly up as he kicked it around. He never felt so happy in his goddamn life. Free. FREE!!!

As he ran around kicking things, Freemind slowly picked himself up. He stood up and stayed standing there, starstruck for a minute. He looked at his glove seeing the mysterious text was gone. He quietly stared off at the cloudless sky.

Hah... To think he had really lost all hope at one point. How he was ready to accept death for the first time in his life and the only thing that changed that was. Another person being alongside him. He clenched his teeth as the thought threatened to bring tears to his eyes. He was overwhelmed.

Feetman came back over, too hyped up to care that Freemind was having a moment. Nothing else mattered! They were free!

“Come here, you fuck!” Feetman grabbed Freemind by the face and crashed his lips against his. He was so overjoyed it didn’t matter if they considered themselves straight, it didn’t matter if he was a weird test tube clone or whatever- He was HAPPY.

Freemind’s eyes widened at the sudden contact. He was so taken back by all of this that his thoughts stopped. He- What-

He had grabbed his arms to push him away but didn’t once they touched. He just... fluttered his lids closed after a moment and found himself going from a tense shouldered stand to melting into him. Returning his single long kiss as his hands slide down his armored arms.

When they broke apart their cheeks had a red tint. Feetman slapped Freemind’s face a little messing with him. “We fucking did it!”

Freemind blinked at him only able to stare, then finally smirked. Fuck it, if he was gonna kiss a guy it might as well be the hottest guy he knew- himself!

Yet, before Freemind could open his mouth to say that, they heard a clang of the door again and both Gordons snapped their heads to it.

A mute Freeman was standing there with a cringing expression. What the fuck did he just watch.

“Uh.” Freemind stared back, Feetman still holding him. “...We’re not gay.”


End file.
